Page 97 of Already At Risk
I had a lot of other things to say to that. Like how that story might be believable to a nine-year-old, but my brother would see right through it. How I should have considered that Chloe might repeat my plans to Noah in the first place. And how none of that was going to change my mind about letting Cameron drive me to get my daughter. Because he was calm and collected and everything I needed at the moment.
I called Noah from the car, and he assured me that Chloe had been able to hold down a little water since we talked, which was promising. Cameron parked in front of Noah’s building, and I ran up to his apartment, where Chloe was wrapped in a blanket on his couch with a bucket by her side, as expected.
Noah assured me he did not want the bucket back.
“I’m sorry, Lo,” he said, giving her a hug before leaving. “We’ll try this again. I promise.”
Chloe made a few noncommittal noises, tucking her head into my stomach.
“You good to get her home?” Noah asked me. “I can come with if you need another set of hands. Gemma’s with Delilah.”
“We’ll be okay,” I assured him. “Right, Chlo?”
She nodded, and I said a hasty goodbye, whisking my daughter out the door before she threw up in the entryway of Noah’s apartment or he asked too many questions.
“Hi, Chloe,” Cam said when we got in the car. His voice was so tender, so gentle, displaying absolutely no irritation or frustration that our night had gotten cut short.
Korey was never this calm in moments of disruption or emergencies. It had bothered me to no end, always having to be the one who kept a level head, who worked through the logistics of a situation and ensured there was an outcome that would keep everyone safe and sound and happy. Well, except Korey. There was no pleasing Korey unless things went precisely the way he wanted them to. He made the littlest inconveniences into the biggest deals, sometimes terrifyingly so, and I didn’t miss his raised voice, flailing arms, and blame throwing. Not one fucking bit.
Chloe peeked her head up to look at Cam and squeaked out a greeting before sprawling across the back seat, rather dramatically. I slid in beside her, nudging her to make room for me, which she allowed. Then I stripped off my sweater to cover the seat, wishing I’d asked Noah for a towel or something to put down in the car in case she didn’t make it home before another bout of nausea.
“It’s okay, Natalie,” Cameron said. I looked up to find him shaking his head at what I was doing, fussing over covering his car seats. “Don’t worry about it. Just buckle up so we can get the two of you home.”
I obeyed, putting my seat belt on and holding the bucket for Chloe as we drove across town, taking note of just how carefulCameron was with every stop of traffic, making sure the car didn’t lurch.
Breathing a sigh of relief when we made it home without any vomiting, I ushered Chloe out of Cameron’s car and into the house, covering the couch with an old sheet and putting the bucket in a prime spot. Cam strode to the kitchen and came back a few minutes later, when I was fumbling with the remote, getting frustrated when it wouldn’t do what I fucking wanted it to.
Cameron held out his hand, an offer of help that I’d gladly take because I didn’t have the patience to find that exact spot where the remote connected to the TV, somewhere behind my stack of crochet needles and Annabeth’s cat tower. After I handed it over, Cameron easily turned it on—annoying, but I really didn’t care at the moment—and found the streaming channel withPercy Jackson.
“There you go, Champ,” he said, giving Chloe an easy smile, which she attempted to return despite looking a little green.
“Thanks, Cam.” She scooted to the edge of the couch, giving a wary glance at the bucket on the floor. “Um, Mom, I think I’m going to?—”
She cut off, staring extra hard at the bucket, which I rushed to pluck off the ground and bring closer to her face.
If we could avoid a splash zone, that would be great.
Chloedidn’tvomit, as I’d been expecting. But she groaned, clutching her stomach, and my chest ached at seeing her like this. She’d beensoexcited to spend the night at Noah’s tonight. My poor girl.
“Do you want me to run to the store?” Cameron asked. “I could get some 7UP or Pedialyte. I’m not a doctor, but that’s what my mom always gave me. And I didn’t see anything like that in your pantry.”
“7UP?” Chloe requested weakly, rolling back onto the couch, which told me the wave of nausea must have passed.
I didn’t have it in me to say no to her right now, even though I shouldn’t let Cameron do me any more favors.
“Does that sound good, honey?”
Chloe nodded, which set Cameron into motion.
“I’ll be right back,” he said definitively. “Text me any specifics you want.”
“Cam, I really appreciate it,” I managed to cut in before he got to the door, feeling conflicted. “But you don’t want to spend your Saturday night running errands for me.”
“Youweremy Saturday night plans, Natalie.”
The insinuation of his words wasn’t lost on me, nor was the way his gaze burned bright. “But?—”
“That doesn’t have to change now,” he added, leaving me somewhat speechless before he could repeat, “I’ll be right back.” It was said in a way that harbored no argument. “You can’t leave Chloe, so let me go get a few things for you girls. It’ll just take a few minutes, and then I can head out, if you want.”
